HP Uncovered Collections
by Falling.Twilight
Summary: Random Oneshots of things you'd have loved to see in HP... but you didn't. Here I bring to you all those moments that are missing in the HP books, and which you can request. Enjoy! Chapter 11 UP!: The Hidden Side Of The First Story.
1. James' Proposal

**And so I start with the HP Uncovered Collection! Random oneshots about random stuff you'd love to see written that has actually haven't been shown in HP. This does NOT mean that I won't continue The Lost Moments - I WILL. I'll be working on both fics at the same time. When I'm uninspired with Snape, I'll inspire myself by writting something about Dumbledore, James Potter, Lily, Ginny, Hermione, Sirius, Tonks, the Weasleys, and any other character! I've got loads of chapters planned, but if you have anything you'd like me to write, please tell me, and I'll put it on my list. You'll have to wait, though.**

**So here I give you the first chapter: James' Proposal. Entirely dedicated to the best of the best reviewers and half-beta and inspiration, _BABY GREEN EYES_!**

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* * *

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_My dear Lily,_

_I'm writing to tell you that I had a great time last Friday, and that I'm sorry I had to leave so suddenly yesterday. Let me make up, okay? Dinner. Tonight. I'll pick you up at eight. How's that? Tell me if you have any trouble with this because I need to see you and this is the perfect opportunity. Don't worry, Sirius won't be coming. I almost killed him when I realised he had been the one who placed that red bra in my closet._

_So, I guess I'll see you tonight at eight (sharp!)._

_I love you, Lily._

_Yours forever,_

_James._

Her green eyes flickered across the paper quickly once again. 'I need to see you.' They'd been together the day before. Until he had abruptly stopped walking, gaze lost, and said 'I have to go, Lily.' Maybe he thought he had to make up for his rudeness? For leaving without explanation? No, it couldn't be that. He seemed desperate to go out, so something big was going on.

She checked with the calendar beside her bed. No birthdays written down there. An anniversary? No, it was spring right now. Their first kiss ever had been around New Year's Eve, and their first _official _date had been before that unforgettable kiss, in Halloween, a year ago, in their last year at Hogwarts. Okay, then it wasn't an anniversary. Something related to his job? No, James wouldn't take her out to celebrate his own accomplishments.

She let out a tiny groan, unable to decipher what was going on.

'_Lily!_' someone sang her name through her window.

'James?' she answered to herself, and leaned over the window pane to see. There, standing in her front garden, stood James Potter, smiling radiantly, a single lily in his hand, and wearing a – _tuxedo?_

Lily ran to the front door and crossed the garden to meet him, throwing herself into his arms.

'Hey!' he greeted cheerfully.

'Hey,' she whispered.

They stared at each other a moment. Slowly, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. Taken aback – yet glad – James laughed and kissed her back, but after a minute he pushed her gently away.

'I brought you a – thought you'd like – you know,' he mumbled, flushing slightly. He showed her the lily.

'Thank you,' Lily said, and kissed him again.

'We'll, we'd better get going,' James beamed at her and turned around.

'Where are we going?' she asked, following him.

'Uh – you'll see.'

'And why are you wearing a tuxedo? _That_ took me by surprise.'

'I… thought you'd fancy to see me like a _real_ gentleman sometime,' he said with a crooked smile on his face and a mocking tone.

'I fancy you all the time, there's no need to wear a tuxedo,' she replied, rolling her eyes.

'Yes, but _you_ are wearing a _dress_ – and you look astonishing – but if you're gonna look all elegant, then I might as well.'

'Just bear in mind that I'll fancy you no matter what you wear.'

'Or what I _don't_ wear,' he muttered under his breath, laughing, but she didn't seem to hear him.

They kept walking under the night sky, small, bright stars twinkling upon them.

'So,' Lily said slowly, pouting her lips, 'why did you leave so suddenly yesterday? We were walking and suddenly you left –'

'I had something to buy,' he answered quickly. Lily frowned.

'Something to buy?' she repeated, sceptic, raising one eyebrow.

'Yeah,' he said. Lily waited, but it didn't seem like James was going to say much more.

'James, what's going on?' she asked, impatient, 'Yesterday you leave all of a sudden to _buy something_, and then you send me a letter telling me that you wanna go out tonight, and you're all silent and don't tell me a thing and –'

'Hey, calm down!' James interrupted her, smiling, 'All in good time. You'll see.'

Lily pressed her lips together, but James took her hand softly.

'Don't worry.'

With the boy at the lead, they kept walking, silently, down a street Lily had never seen. Nobody was around – only darkness surrounded them, and there was no sound, except for the soft breeze making the tree leaves sway. It was a moonless night, which meant that they didn't have to be worrying over Remus, though the girl was sure Sirius was keeping him company right now – it hadn't been long since the death of Remus' father.

'Okay, Lily,' James stopped dead just a few steps before a bend, and faced his girlfriend. 'Close your eyes.'

The girl did as she was told. Hesitantly, she let herself be led to wherever they were going, and it wasn't before long when he whispered in her ear, 'Now open them.'

Her eyelids revealed the startling, green almond-shaped eyes – and she gasped.

Before her, a small park beside the river had been decorated with little yellow lights, as if they were celebrating Christmas. The river's water sparkled with the night's splendour, and the girl laughed in disbelief as she saw a little table prepared for two, dinner already served, two glasses of oak mead flanking two tall candles. The few trees and bushed had twinkling little lights as well – Lily wondered if they were faeries.

'James, this is…' Was there a word to describe it? 'This is just marvellous. Beautiful. Wonderful.'

'Not as much as you,' James whispered, gazing at the scene, smiling with tenderness. 'Come on.'

Lily approached the table and eyed the food in the plates.

'How long has this been here?' she asked him.

'Uh – not long,' James replied, unsure, and Lily caught him glancing at the nearest bush. Her mind working at full speed, the girl sat down in front of her boyfriend and stared at his brown eyes.

'I can't believe this,' she murmured, 'I feel like I'm in one of those old, romantic movies.'

James laughed. 'I'm _so_ glad you liked it. W– I worked hard.'

'No doubt about it,' she muttered, and started eating silently. James gazed at her with loving eyes, not touching his food.

'You look beautiful,' he said after a while. Lily felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.

'Thanks. And you look _dashing_.'

The boy roared with laughter.

'I found it in my father's closet. He won't mind. I hope.'

Lily smiled.

'So, are you going to tell me what this is all about?' she asked, leaving her fork and knife aside and resting her chin in her hands.

'You're quite impatient lately.'

'I'm just curious.'

'Curiosity killed the cat.'

'Curiosity made Columbus discover America as well.'

'_Who?_'

Lily stared at him.

'Never mind.'

James rolled his eyes.

'Sometimes I wish I hadn't given up Muggle Studies.'

'I don't know why you did.'

He frowned. 'Moony used to say the same.'

'Have you seen Remus lately?' she asked, interested. James pressed his lips together.

'No, but Sirius is with him right now –' Lily caught him glancing towards the bush again – 'and he'll tell me later how he's doing.'

'How nice of Sirius,' Lily said in a neutral tone. James gave a nervous little laugh.

'You know him.'

Lily started to eat again, and again James did nothing else but look at her. His eyes rested on her dark, red hair, gazed into her emerald eyes, followed the lines of her face… He opened his mouth to talk, but she interrupted him.

'So what was that about Sirius and the red bra I found in your closet?' Lily asked, raising her eyebrows. James notices the change in her voice.

'Oh, _that_,' he muttered, 'Well, Sirius thought it was _funny_ –' he empathized the word as he punched the table, 'to hide a bra in my closet. Not to mess up with our relationship, but so _he_ could pretend to have found it and bother me for the rest of eternity. Quite a charmer.'

His hand moved to the glass with mead, but, in the precise moment in which his fingers closed around it, it disappeared. Lily thought she heard a muffled laughter somewhere around.

'I'd never seen this place,' she changed subject, frowning and looking at her surroundings, 'I can't believe it.'

However, in her insides she had recognized the river – a river she had visited for the first time a long time ago, by the hand of a dark-haired boy…

'Yes, words just _can't_ describe you… I mean it – the place, the park, the river,' he corrected himself quickly, but Lily smiled at him. 'You know. The place.'

'Yes, the place,' she laughed, 'I'm so lucky I found you, James.'

'You found me after six years of having seen me around,' he said, rolling his eyes.

'Well, you _were_ a bit of a prat,' she laughed again, 'but I guess we all were at that age.'

James didn't seem to be following the conversation any longer – he had resumed his gazing at the girl, as if imprinting her image in his mind.

'What?' she asked, amused, and James gave a tiny jerk with his head.

'I'm sorry, it's just that – well –' he seemed to be struggling for words. After a moment of silence, he sighed.

'Well, here I go. I'm going to explain to you the reason why I brought you here. And – please don't interrupt,' he winced, 'it will make it harder.'

Lily nodded, attentive, and James inhaled and continued.

'Lily,' he started, leaning forwards and staring straight into her breathtaking eyes, 'remember the first time I saw you?'

The girl narrowed her eyes and nodded.

'You were making fun of Severus Snape,' she said slowly.

'Exactly,' James' expression brightened, 'Well, Lily, at that moment, I didn't like you.'

Her eyes widened in surprise.

'Er – thanks.'

'Wait, wait, let me finish!' he hurried to say. 'At that moment, I saw you with Snivellus and thought you were a git, just like him – though a very good-looking git.' He flashed her a smile which she did not return, and sighed. 'I'm not good at romanticism, I know.'

'Keep going, you're doing a great job,' she said, rolling her eyes.

'Never mind – the point is, it wasn't long after I started to… like you. You were pretty, smart, witty, brave, and you stood for your friends – even if they were greasy gits. You were unlike the rest of the Hogwarts girls.'

'And yet you were always making a fool of yourself around them,' Lily laughed.

'No, no,' he shook his head, serious, 'I made a fool of myself when _you_ were around. I couldn't help it. Imagine my situation – I was this good-looking, cool guy,' Lily rolled her eyes, 'who could mount his broom and score goals magnificently and hence get any girl he wanted – except you. You, Lily Evans, the most beautiful girl, the most mature, the most intelligent, the most – I ran out of adjectives. The point is, the only girl I desired the most, and not for lust – I started to find out I kind of… _loved_ you, even at that age – the only girl I wanted with my soul, the only girl I would die for a hundred times – _that_ girl I couldn't reach. You were way too much for me. And I knew it, and I insisted. Remember how I kept bugging you?'

'There wasn't a day in which you wouldn't ask me out,' Lily smiled, nodding, 'Or any class, actually. And _you_ took advantage – when I asked you something, you would _only_ do it if I went out with you.'

'Which you didn't,' James said, frowning at the table, 'and I always had to give in at the end. I hated seeing you angry at me. But of course, I was such an _arrogant toe-rag_,' Lily blushed at his words, 'that I wouldn't admit it. I would laugh at your anger and mock you. And ask you if you would go out with me.

'So in the end, I settled down. I didn't give up, of course, but I realized that by making a fool of myself, I'd gain nothing. And when I became Head Boy, and matured a little, _then_ you started accepting my invitations to Hogsmeade. But before that, you _hated_ me,' he finished with a slight note of pain in his voice. Lily shook her head.

'I didn't hate you. I never did, I think. I just – didn't like it that you bullied other people just for the sake of it. And for Sirius' sake. But I knew you were a good person inside, a true, loyal friend. Now I know it better than before.'

They stared at each other with sadness, melancholy floating in the air.

'Lily,' he whispered, taking her hand across the table, 'I love you. I've always loved you. And I can't _help_ loving you. You are… my life, though I know it sounds cheesy. You are everything to me. Please, don't interrupt. I know what you're gonna say. But listen, Lily… I need to do something. I can't wait any longer. That is why I brought you here tonight.'

Slowly, not taking his eyes off her, he stood up.

Lily's breathing increased its tempo, and her mind raced – everything fit: the dinner, the lights, the romanticism, the _thing_ he had hurried to buy the day before –

'Lily Evans,' James had kneeled before her, and with a swift movement, removed a dark blue, satin box from his pocket and showed it to her. 'Lily Evans, I love you. I really do. And I want you to stay beside me for the rest of my life. I want to love you and take care of you and be the father of your children and – Lily, Lily, will you marry me?'

The box opened, and inside, a silver ring sparkling with the light.

'It's not much, but I know you like simple thi–'

His words were interrupted when Lily threw herself into his arms again, not bothering to place the ring on her finger, and kissed him fully in the mouth, a single tear running down her cheek. James laughed and pressed her against him, kissing back with as much passion as she was putting into the kiss.

'Oh, James,' Lily whispered between tears and kisses, 'Yes, yes, yes, yes!'

And there they were – James trying not to fall backwards, with Lily in his arms, feeling the taste of her lips and the softness of her skin –

'YES!' a voice shouted with delight from behind them, 'YES, YES! GOOD ONE, PRONGS!'

Lily broke the kiss to look over James' shoulder, and he turned around. Sirius was whooping and dancing behind the bush, now visible, enchanted by the scene he had just witnessed.

'I knew it,' Lily muttered, laughing, and then directed her words to the dancing Gryffindor, 'I thought you were with Remus!'

'Technically, he _is_,' a soft, calm voice came from behind the bush, and slowly Remus Lupin stood up, 'but I had the _tact_ to remain hidden and silent, and let this moment be enjoyed by the two of you.'

'THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED!' Sirius was shouting, jumping on the spot.

'I'm getting married,' James whispered, gazing at him, and then turning to Lily. 'I'm getting married to _you_.'

'Lily Potter,' she said proudly. 'How do you like it?'

James laughed quietly. 'Actually… I'd never heard such sweeter words in my _life_.'

* * *

**So the night finished with James telling Sirius that of course he'd be the godfather at the wedding, Sirius jumping over Moony in happiness and excitement, both of them falling onto the ground, and Lily and James breaking their kisses so as to avoid any Marauder getting a broken leg.**

**And no, Peter Pettigrew did NOT deserve an appearance. At this time, he was with Voldy making his alliance and was too busy to come.**

**I HOPE YOU LIKED IT, BGE, AND ALL OTHER READERS!**

**And cheer up, cuz there will be MORE of _JAMES POTTER_!**

**Me :3**

**ps: You'll have to wait for him, though.**


	2. Power!

**This chapter was requested by a friend of mine - we were on the phone yesterday and this came out and we laughed ourselves til death. Figuratively. Terribly stupid, but it was so funny yesterday, and I had fun writing it **

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Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Hermione Granger's malicious eyes suddenly appeared in front of her, gigantic, twinkling with happiness.

Poke.

Poke.

Crap! Break, glass, _break!_

'_That's never – you're kidding –_'

'_No, I'm not. I caught her on the window-sill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears._'

Foul?!

POKE.

The beetle buzzed angrily, trying to smash the glass. She'll teach her what _foul_ meant – oh, the stories she would write when she got out of there...!

Her glasses were fine, extremely fine! Sense of _fashion_, it was called! Unlike the horrible sweaters and shirts Granger used – she was a diva! And now a bushy-haired, big, fat, scarlet woman that loved to toy with boys was keeping her prisoner in a _jar_!

'_I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London. I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people._'

POKE.

POKE.

POKE.

_Big fat bitch!_ You'll see what 'horrible lies' really mean! You have defied the mighty Rita Skeeter! _You can never get away with it!_

POKE.

POKE.

POKE.

Oh, when she got out of that darn jar – the power of Skeeter would fall over her! The power of the quill! The power of journalism!

POKE.

The power of fashion!

POKE.

The power of beetles!

POKE.

The power of –!

The jar fell abruptly through a hole, and the beetle smashed against the bottom of the jar.

POKE POKE POKE POKE POKE POKE.

But it was senseless – Hermione's bag had closed and she was surrounded in complete darkness.


	3. Baby Birthday

**I'm so inspired today. Four chapters in three hours. Love me. But that's it for today. I'm going to bed x.x**

* * *

'Happy birthday to you.'

'Happy birthday to you.'

'Happy birthday, dear Harry...'

'Happy birthday to you!'

Two pairs of green eyes stared at each other. Lily smiled and grabbed her baby by his arm pits.

'Look at him, one year old already!' Lily whispered, and behind her, James laughed.

'Time goes fast,' he muttered.

'Hello, little Harry!' Lily exclaimed, beaming as the one-year-old baby yawned. 'Who's my favorite baby? Who? Who?'

'Lily, _please_.'

'You are! You!'

'Let him _breathe!_'

James took Harry away from his mother's grip and left the room.

'Hey!' shouted Lily, and left behind him.

'What if, instead of making his brain go backwards in time, you show him his gifts?' James asked her as he walked down the stairs to the living room. Lily beamed again and hurried past him.

She was delighted. James had never seen her so happy – except for the time when they had got married and when he had proposed to her. But Harry was her life now. Her oxygen.

'Look, Harry, look!' Lily called. James rolled his eyes behind her back. 'What a pity he can't understand a thing I'm telling him. But you'll grow fast, won't you, little guy?' she pinched Harry's cheek and, to James' surprise, the baby laughed.

'I thought that hurt?' he asked her. 'My great-grandma used to do that to me. My cheek was red and painful for the rest of the day.'

'Sweetheart, do you think Remus will come today?' Lily asked him, not paying attention to what he said, and fluttering around the room, searching the floor. 'Oh, here it is. Look, Harry!'

In her hands there was a miniature broom.

'Look what your godfather sent you!' she said, while Harry's little fist stretched towards her. 'He was dead nice with this.'

'And a broom!' James widened his eyes. 'He's a genius. Harry, I hope you have inherited my Quidditch talent. I was terribly good on a broom.'

'Yes, you were,' Lily smiled. James let Harry on the floor, and Lily mounted him on the broom. He floated two feet above the ground, maintaining a firm grip on the handle, and started to giggle.

'Aww, James, he likes it!' Lily sighed. James laughed at her and hugged her.

'That's our little guy.'

'Let's show him the other presents.'

'What are they?'

Lily sat on the sofa and a pile of bags appeared by her side.

'Remus sent him some beautiful baby clothes – look, they're so nice! And Dumbledore sent a letter saying he's sorry for the inconvenience, but he needs the Cloak for a little longer –'

'Not so nice,' James muttered under his breath.

'– and Mad-Eye sent him a – never mind. Could you throw this away, please? Thank you. Oh, look at the Longbottom's gift! We really could use with one of these – look! Harry's gonna love it.'

And so she chattered to herself while James stared out of the window. How he wished he wasn't locked up in that house... How he wished he could sneak out and –

_Do what?_ Lily would ask with her hands on her hips. Whatever. Anything to get out of there and be free for a while.

'James! Watch out for Harry!' Lily sang, and he turned around. Harry was mounted on his broom again, and he was trying to fly forward, but he could only move a few inches. James laughed and approached his son.

'Ready Harry? Go!' and he pushed softly his back so that the baby would speed up and fly forward, laughing cheerfully. With difficulty, he traveled a few more feet by his own.

'Hey!' James laughed, 'This is gonna be one hell of a Quidditch player!'

'A Chaser, just like you,' Lily said, her attention on the gifts.

'So I wish.'

Harry was still laughing his sweet, baby laugh, flying on his miniature broom.

'I'll have to thank Sirius for this,' Lily said, raising one eyebrow and gazing at the baby, 'He really loves it.'

'How I love that dog.'

The bell rang at that moment, and Lily jumped up from the sofa.

'James, watch Harry for me,' she called as she rushed to open the door.

'Sure,' he muttered.

'I wasn't expecting anyone today – oh, hi, Bathilda!'

A very old woman stood on the porch, smiling at her.

'Hello, dear!' she greeted – she was holding a package in her hands.

'Why, this is quite a surprise,' Lily said, frowning and smiling at the same time. 'Come in, come in.'

'Now, where's little Harry?' Bathilda asked her, and she looked around.

'He was here just now.'

They both searched the room with their eyes.

'James? Are you with Ha–'

ZOOM.

A flash of baby-on-a-broom before their eyes.

'HARRY!' Lily shrieked, stepping forward, yet not knowing which way to run.

ZOOM.

Harry was laughing his heart out as he flew around the room at an impossible speed.

'No, no, HARRY! Stop!'

The baby couldn't listen – it dived and turned and sped in the air with the rudeness of a one-year-old. It was only miracle he didn't crash against a wall or hit a desk.

'Harry! _Harry_!'

Lily ran around the room, following her son, but he was too fast for her.

James appeared through the kitchen door, frowning.

'Lily, what's going o–'

ZOOM.

'_What on Merlin's beard is going on?!_'

He stared at the zooming baby and at the gasping mother.

'James Potter, _you were supposed to be looking after him!_'

'I needed to go to the bathroom!'

'Couldn't it wait?! No, HARRY!'

ZOOM.

The baby shrieked with exhilaration and turned abruptly to the left just in time before it crashed against the wall. Lily ran after him, slipping and falling to the ground and avoiding the broom and baby.

'JAMES, HELP!'

'Yes! Yes!' he exclaimed at once, but he was dumbfounded, and fluttered his hands in the air nervously, not knowing what to do.

'HARRY, STOP!'

Bathilda was smiling at the scene, apparently unaware of the danger Harry Potter was in. Lily was running out of breath, but she didn't stop – she winced as she ran and clutched to her stomach with one hand, the other one stretched to Harry –

A brown, spotted cat appeared between James' legs and walked calmly across the room.

'HARRY! THE CAT! THE CAT!'

The broom flew at top speed, its end pointing the innocent animal –

'NO!'

Lily threw herself to the ground and pushed the cat out of the way; he meowed angrily and hurried out of the room again.

But Lily had managed to catch the end of the broom, and Harry was in vain trying to fly forwards. Gasping, she stood up and grabbed the baby.

'Never – never – never again!' she scolded him between breaths. Then she turned to her husband. 'Thank you for your help! It was dead useful!'

James pressed his lips together and walked into the kitchen again.

'Bathilda, sorry,' Lily whispered, shaking her head. 'Oh, _no_,' Harry had started to moan, searching for his wonderful new toy.

'Hello, little Harry!' Bathilda greeted, making the baby turn his face to her. 'Look! I brought you a... _gift!_'

'Thank you, Bathilda, it's so nice of you,' Lily said, smiling. 'Look what Bathilda brought you, Harry! She brought you a – a – a pair of socks!' she exclaimed as Bathilda unpacked them; they were both a horrible tone of green.

'I made them myself to match them with your eyes,' Bathilda told Harry, who wasn't paying any attention.

'Thank you so much, they'll be so useful now we're in... summer.'

'You're welcome, dear,' the old woman said, and walked to the kitchen.

'Hello, Bathilda!' James exclaimed when he saw her. Lily sighed and let Harry on the floor again.

'Hello, James, it's nice seeing you.'

'You too.'

Lily thought she heard a sarcastic tone in his voice.

'So what's up?' James asked her, leaving the Daily Prophet on the table and staring at her.

'Oh, not much,' she laughed, 'the same old. How about you?'

'Tea, Bathilda?' Lily asked from behind them.

'Oh, yes, please, dear, thank you.'

'We heard about the McKinnon, did you?' James was now more serious.

'Oh, horrible, horrible news,' Bathilda shook her head, 'Great people they were.'

'Indeed,' James sighed, 'Innocents are the first to suffer – the guilty ones, the last.'

'I hate to open the Daily Prophet knowing that all I'm going to find is names,' Lily shook her head as she walked to the table to join them with a steaming cup of tea.

'Thank you, dear,' Bathilda smiled as she received the cup, 'Yes, names. You-Know-Who has no mercy at all, nor do those Death Eaters of him.'

'It's awful not to know who to trust these days,' James said, 'but luckily, there are friends. Friends always remain.'

Lily smiled at him and held his hand in hers.

'Have you heard anything about Dumbledore, Bathilda?' she asked her, turning her eyes away from her husband's. 'He sent a letter wishing Harry a happy birthday, but that's all.' She omitted the part about the Cloak. 'And you're always in contact with him, so...'

'No, but I found some old pictures of him today,' Bathilda sounded excited. 'When he was around seventeen – a good boy even then. I remember those days, when he came to my place to visit Grindelwald, they were so fond of each other –'

'Wait, wait, wait,' James raised a hand. 'What?'

'What what, my dear?' Bathilda asked him, counfused.

'Grindelwald?' James asked. 'Dumbledore and Grindelwald? Friends?' he laughed in disbelief.

'Grindelwald lived here for a few months,' Bathilda informed him, 'I introduced him to Albus. I regret it now, though. But at that time they were great friends.'

Lily laughed. 'Bathilda, you must be seriously wrong, I just can't believe that –'

CRASH.

Lily turned to James.

'What was –'

ZOOM.

'HARRY, NO!'

* * *

**I daydreamed with this chapter. I just _HAD_ to write it.**


	4. Sword

It was not strange to see them walking together during breaks or weekends. The attractive red-head, the older black-haired boy, and the wide-eyed blonde. So nobody turned to stare at them as they huddled together in a corner of the library, the farthest away as possible from people and hidden behind shelves.

'It's Harry's,' Ginny whispered, 'Dumbledore left it in his will.'

'You _are_ sure?' Neville asked her.

'Yes, Scrimgeour wouldn't give it to him.'

'How do you know it's in Snape's office?'

'The sword is always there,' Luna answered in her singsong voice.

'It's in a glass case,' Ginny added.

Neville nodded. 'So you wanna –?'

'Give it back to its proper owner, exactly.'

'I agree,' Luna said, her eyes widening even more. Though she looked a little weird this way, her friends had now accepted her for what she was, and loved her for _who_ she was. However, a little less chatter about Crumple-Horned Snorckacks would have helped.

'I believe Snape killed Dumbledore, so he is in absolutely no right to have the Gryffindor Sword!' Ginny exclaimed in a furious whisper.

'How will we do it?' Neville asked. Ginny bit her lip.

'How about what we did with Umbridge?' Luna suggested not losing hope, 'When Harry wanted to use her fire?'

'Umbridge was a stupid prat, Snape is not,' Ginny shook her head. 'He's cleverer. He'll know what we're up to if we tell him there's Garroting Gas.'

'He'll probably even know how to make it go away,' Neville muttered.

The three of them gazed at the floor and the books, thinking.

'Accio?' Neville started, but Ginny shook her head again.

'We need a really big distraction,' she said, 'and then we get in.'

'I know –' Luna and Ginny turned to Neville, who's eyes had brightened, 'I'll make the distraction – throw Barnabas through a staircase or something, defy Alecto again, plant some Venomous Tentacula in her office – I don't know, _something_, and while Snape lectures me you can go get the Sword!'

'No way, Neville, you're coming with us,' Ginny said. Neville looked surprised.

'It's a genius plan!'

'You'll get into more trouble, and you already have tons of them,' she said.

'As if we weren't going to get into _serious_ trouble anyway,' he muttered.

'But if they catch us together, we'll all have the punishment,' Luna smiled, 'not only you. The three of us sticking together. That's how it should be.'

Ginny beamed at her – Luna could be weird sometimes, but she was the greatest friend of them all. Sometimes she wandered how the hell Luna had gotten into _Ravenclaw_.

'Let's make it simple, then,' Neville said, 'We just wait for him to go away, and get in, smash the glass case, and get the sword.'

'Isn't it a bit obvious?' Ginny raised her eyebrow, 'I mean, he could be expecting it, and we don't know how much time we'll have.'

'Well, if he gets in before, we grab the sword and stick it through him. That ought to do the trick.'

'Genius, Neville,' Ginny whispered.

'I think it's a good plan,' Luna said. Ginny stared at her in disbelief.

'You want to stick a sword through Snape? I mean, not that he didn't deserve it, but maybe it goes too far –'

'Not that part,' Luna interrupted her. 'The other part. Making it simple.'

'We don't have Hermione for the brilliant plans,' Neville said.

'_You've_ grown up with Fred and George Weasley,' Luna pointed at the red-head.

'Yes, but right now, I'm dry.'

'But determined.'

'Totally.'

'Then let's give it our best shot,' Neville said. 'Who cares what happens later? This is a matter of justice and destroying You-Know-Who!'

'Exactly,' Ginny whispered, and after a minute she smiled to herself. 'Yes. Absolutely. I'm with you. We're getting into that office no matter how.'

'And if we have to kill a thousand Nargles to do it, we will!' Luna exclaimed, placing her hand in the middle of their little circle. 'Though they're becoming extinct now, and it would be a serious problem.'

Neither Ginny or Neville criticized her thinking; they both placed their hands on top of Luna's.

'For The Chosen One,' Neville said.

'For The Boy Who Lived,' Luna smiled.

They stared at Ginny.

She nodded. 'For Harry.'

* * *

'Shhh. Shut up, someone's coming.'

The three friends peeped around the corner of the corridor, where a large, ugly gargoyle guarded the entrance to the office that used to be Dumbledore's. After a second, they saw Amycus stumbling towards it, a nasty bruise on his arm and a huge boil in his nose. Ginny scowled.

'Sectumsempra,' Amycus said in a rush, and the gargoyle moved aside to let Amycus passed; he entered somewhere the students could not see from their positions, and disappeared behind the gargoyle again.

'Sectumsempra?' Neville asked.

'It's a spell,' Ginny informed him as she remembered last year's incidents with Harry and Malfoy, 'A really nasty curse.'

'I'm surprised the password wasn't "The Dark Lord",' Neville muttered.

Minutes passed, and Luna, Ginny and Neville waited in their hiding place, expectant.

'You know, we could really use Harry's Cloak right now,' Ginny commentated after around ten minutes of waiting, but at that precise moment, the gargoyle stepped aside and they saw Amycus come out again – accompanied by Snape.

'_... in the middle of the class! The Brown girl, I must say – stupid and all for Dumbledore – it's a really good thing he's dead..._'

Snape didn't say a word, but just follow, his cloak fluttering behind him, and when they had disappeared down a staircase, Ginny hurried to the gargoyle with Luna and Neville at her heels.

'Sectumsempra,' Neville said hesitantly.

To his surprise. The gargoyle let him pass, though its expression was suspicious. Ginny sighed in relief as the wall behind it split in two, revealing a spiral staircase.

'Come on,' Neville hurried them, and the three ran into it.

'I really hope Lavender is okay,' Ginny said as they rushed upstairs, not waiting for the staircase to take them there.

'Wander what happened,' Neville said to himself.

'This staircase is really funny.' Luna smiled.

No more than a minute had passed when they reached a beautiful oak door with a brass, griffin knocker in it.

'God, I'm dizzy,' Ginny panted as she clutched to her side with one hand. 'The next time, we just wait for the stairs to do its job.'

'Shall we knock?' Luna asked.

'To hell with the knocking!'

Neville had suddenly backed away, and was preparing to run over the door.

'Neville – I don't think you should –'

But he was already speeding.

'_Alohomora!_' Ginny and Luna said at the same time, and the door opened just when Neville bumped against it.

'OW!'

He rubbed his arm as he entered the room. Luna gasped; apparently, she had never been in there before. Her fingers traced a silver instrument, and she smiled.

'A Nargle detector,' she whispered to herself, 'I'd never thought I'd see one in my life.'

'Luna,' Ginny called behind her, and the blonde turned around. Her two friends were approaching the shelf behind Snape's desk, where the Sorting Hat stood, silent and shabby-looking. Above it, a glass case twinkled with the afternoon light coming through the window, the Sword of Gryffindor floating still inside it. Beside it, Dumbledore slept silently, his chest moving slowly up and down.

'Ooooh,' Luna appreciated.

'How shall we get it out?' Ginny asked.

Neville shrugged. 'Smashing it?'

'I don't think so,' she shook her head slowly, not taking her eyes off of the Sword, 'it's bound to be protected – it may even have an alarm... And we don't know when Snape's coming back.'

'We'll risk it,' Neville turned away from them and raised his wand, pointing at the glass case. '_Reducto!_'

A flash of red hit the glass, making it brake in thousands of little pieces, momentarily filling the room with soft rainbows.

'_Wingardium Leviosa,_' Luna was pointing at the Sword, which stopped in mid-air two inches above the floor. 'Imagine the noise it could have made.'

'Let's go!' Ginny shouted, and the three of them ran to the door. They were expecting to see Snape behind it, glaring at them, considering what kind of punishment was worse for them – but only the staircase awaited them. Smiling in relief, they made their way back down and didn't even wait for the gargoyle to finish moving aside.

'What shall we do?' Luna asked.

'Yeah, 'cause it might be a little suspicious if we ran around the school with a sword in our hands,' Neville grimaced.

'Give it to me,' said Ginny as she took the sword from Luna's grip; she slid it into her robes and pressed her arm against her body to keep it from falling to the ground. 'At least, people won't know it's a sword.'

Neville grabbed Ginny's free arm and led her to the staircase, with Luna beside them, and together they hurried down as fast as possible –

'Where shall we take it?' Luna asked as she helped Ginny with her arm, 'Gryffindor tower?'

'No, let's take it to the Room of Requirement,' Neville ordered, 'We can hide it there until we find a way to send it to Harry, and then we can –'

'Well, well, well,' a cold voice said behind them. Neville, Ginny and Luna turned around and faced Snape, who was staring at them with his lower lip curled. 'Have you broken a leg, Miss Weasley?'

'I – yes, I was running from Peeves and I fell down,' she said convincingly; her years with Fred and George had been good for her.

'We were taking her to the Nursery,' Neville said, confident – nothing could scare him now.

'Ah,' Snape nodded twice, 'I thought the Nursery was in the opposite direction. I must have been mistaken.'

Ginny widened her eyes and glanced at her friends.

'If your leg is broken, Miss Weasley, I am curious... Why are you holding your arm in that way?'

'It hurts,' Ginny said quickly, 'I fell on top of it.'

'Ah,' Snape nodded again. He went on glaring at them, his black eyes fixing in each other at a time. When he didn't say a word, the three students turned around – hesitantly – and resumed their walking down the stairs, now more slowly.

_Clank._

Ginny had tripped over her own foot, and Gryffindor's Sword had fallen noisily onto the stairs. The red-head winced and pressed her lips together.

'You three,' Snape said suddenly behind them, making them jump, 'will come with me to my office. Now.'

He raised the Sword from the stairs with his wand and turned around, with Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom following him, scared, yet proud that their attempt had not been an act of mischief: it had been an act of loyalty to the Chosen One.

* * *

**Terrible, _terrible_ ending. I was so uninspired today. I had already written the first part, and today I started writing from 'He raised...' and it was soo terrible X(**


	5. Torture

**I HAVE TO GO SAILING RIGHT NOW SO THERE'S NO TIME FOR ANs GOODBYEE!**

* * *

The toddler his room's door quietly. He had heard voices on the lower level.

'_I do not know where he is!_'

'_You're lying, you scum!_'

He stumbled to the stairs, still sleepy from his recent nap and peeped.

A man and a woman where kneeling on the living room floor, pale as ghosts, while a heavily hooded woman stood before them, her wand pointing at the man. The boy leaned a little bit forward, and three more male figures appeared; a thickset man, a teenager, and one man that seemed to be in his mid-twenties.

'You have the information we need,' said the woman, her eyes bulging out of their sockets, 'and you will give it to us.'

'He is _dead_, how could we _possibly know –_?'

'LIAR!' the woman pointed her wand to the man's wife, who wailed in horror.

'Please, don't, please...' she moaned as she grabbed her husband by his arm.

'_Where is the Dark Lord?_'

The little boy recognized his parents, but somehow, he couldn't call them. He couldn't call his mum right now.

Maybe fear for what he was watching, even though he did not understand it, was what made him stay there, rooted to the floor, staring. Or maybe his baby senses told him that something horrible was going to happen.

'He disappeared!' his father shouted, 'He's gone, Harry Potter defeated h–'

'_A baby cannot defeat Him!_' the woman shouted, stabbing his chest sharply with her wand, '_He is hiding! He is alive!_'

'Lord Voldemort is de–'

'_Crucio!_'

The boy's eyes opened wide as his father yelled in pain, and his heart ached to hug her mother, who was shrieking in fear and terror...

'The Ministry knows! You, Aurors, you, members of the Order of the Phoenix, _you know where he is!_' the woman shouted again as his father kept yelling and shouting, laying down over the carpet, his hands clenched into fists, his wive's hands fluttering over him, trying to locate the source of the pain as she cried and shrieked...

The woman lifted the spell from the agonizing man, and Alice Longbottom threw herself over her husband, stroking his cheek and murmuring words, but she was thrown away with one violent kick from her capturer.

She neared her face to Frank Longbottom's.

'I will ask it one last time,' she whispered softly, 'I know you don't want your precious wife to get hurt... So answer this with a simple location... _Where is the Dark Lord_?'

Gasping for breath and trembling, Frank turned his face to her and curled his lips over his teeth.

'Voldemort – is – _dead_,' he whispered defiantly.

The woman stared at him for a few moments, so close to him she might have been kissing him, and then stood up again.

'As you wish,' she said. '_Crucio!_'

This time it was not his father who yelled; his mother's shrieks pierced the boy's ears. Tears silently rolled down his plump cheeks as his father bellowed, '_NO!_'

'_Leave her alone!_'

'_Where is the Dark Lord?!_'

'I _told _you! _I do not know! Nobody does! He's dead, for Christ's sake, leave my wife!_'

But Bellatrix Lestrange did not life the curse as she had done with him. She laughed at the woman's suffering as she stared at Frank, who was sobbing, holding dear Alice Longbottom's convulsing body in his arms. In the upper level, Neville started to cry, but the people down there couldn't hear him; his mother's screams drowned all sound in the house...

And suddenly they ceased. Bellatrix's arm hung limp beside her.

'Alice...?' Frank muttered desperately, taking the wet hair out of her sweaty face. Her paleness was now too impressive, and it had a touch of yellow in it; her lips were quivering, and air didn't seem to be reaching her lungs properly. Her gaze was lost, and her spastic fingers touched her own lips, trembling hard.

'_Alice?_' he called again, but his wife was not responding. His expression turned wild and furious as he stared at Bellatrix. '_What did you do to her?!_'

The woman snorted. 'That is _nothing_ compared to what I can do to her,' she said, 'so let us not play childish games, Longbottom. I know the Order of the Phoenix knows the whereabouts of my Lord, so you'd better start talking before you end up like _her_.'

'I don't know where he is, I don't know, I swear, please leave us alone, _please_...' Frank sobbed into his wife's hair.

Bellatrix glanced at the other men in the room.

'_Crucio_.'

And the yells and screams and shrieks and cries and shouts began again, and Neville cried and cried and cried, as he watched his parents being tortured slowly and painfully...

'_PLEASE!_'

'_Crucio! Crucio!_'

And his parents yelled, and the baby yelled, but nobody could hear him, and nobody could hear _them_, and they were dying, they were dying before his eyes...

'_WHERE IS THE DARK LORD?!_'

And the shrieks would never stop, and his mother would cry and shout, and his father would yell and roar, both in pain, and little Neville Longbottom would shriek at the top of his voice at the scene...

'Bellatrix.'

The teenager approached her and touched her shoulder.

'Let's go,' he whispered, staring wide-eyed at the dying couple.

Bellatrix roared in frustration and turned away from them, storming out of the room. The others followed, but not before staring hesitantly at the two trembling figures on the floor. A loud bang sounded from the kitchen. They had left.

They had left Frank and Alice Longbottom on the verge of death, tortured into insanity.

They had left their small son crying above them, unable to react, suffering the worst pain he had ever felt in his short life – the pain in the heart.

And they had left a beautiful, happy family destroyed, destroyed because of greed and ambition, destroyed because of the eternal evil that haunted the world – destroyed because of Lord Voldemort.


	6. Natural Love

**I wrote this in less than half an hour. I was bored. I _am_ bored.**

* * *

'Hello. You must be Miss Luna Lovegood.'

The young woman turned around. Her long, dirty blond hair was tied in a ponytail and she was wearing something that resembled an archeologist's outfit in a kaki color. She had a clipboard in front of her, and her pen had been scribbling across the paper before she had turned to see who had spoken to her.

A man was smiling gently at her – he didn't look older than her, and yet Luna knew he was – and by several years.

'Hello,' she said in her singsong voice, 'I know who you are. You are Rolf Scamander.'

The man widened his eyes in happy surprise, though Luna's eyes were still wider than his.

'I am,' he laughed, 'It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lovegood. I've read all of your articles.'

'Me, yours.'

Time hadn't changed her. She would always have that surprised look in her face, and her voice would never lose its misty tone. Her gray eyes were, as they had always been, the most prominent feature in her face – they looked as if they weren't looking, as if she were merely gazing, and yet they could see more than any other person could.

Rolf Scamander offered his hand. Luna eyed it and then carefully shook it, a slight smile playing in her face.

'I was specially interested in the Nargles' article,' he went on, 'I had heard a few things about them, from you, obviously, and some rather nasty comments about it too. I really enjoyed refuting them.'

'Oh, yes,' Luna said, turning her face to her clipboard and writing quickly across the paper as she resumed her walking through the forest, along with the other naturalists and scientists and forest keepers, 'they will never accept their existence unless I shove them one in front of their faces,' she stopped and looked up at the man, 'I'm following a lead on them, from a man who claims to have seen some.'

Rolf smiled when she focused her attention on the writing again.

'Really? Is that what you're doing now?'

'No. I'm writing about Thestrals. I'm planning to write a whole book about them.'

'Well, that's something!' Rolf appreciated, walking behind her, 'I really hope it's good. People just don't seem to understand how harmless, intelligent creatures they are. They all hate them because of the death thing. Superstitious people get over my nerves.'

Suddenly, Luna stopped walking and gazed at him intently. Wow. Had she heard what she had just heard?

Rolf frowned, but keeping the smile in place.

'Is there a problem, Miss Lovegood? Don't tell me you're writing about how horrible they are.'

'No,' she said, still staring unabashedly, 'In fact, I'm writing exactly about that. About how wonderful they are.'

And with that, she started writing again.

'Yes, Thestrals _are_ wonderful creatures,' Rolf sighed, 'I have been trying to convince several friends of mine about that.'

'I have a friend who's very narrow-minded too,' Luna said, not taking her eyes away from the paper, 'but she learns, with time. I really love her. She's a great friend.'

'Is she a Thestral hater?'

'Not at all. She thinks they are interesting. She even flew one with me and other friends in my fourth year at Hogwarts.'

Rolf stopped dead.

'Wait,' he said, 'are you talking about the time when you, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Potter's wife, and Miss Granger from Magical Law and Enforcement went to the Ministry to – no.'

'Around fourteen years ago,' Luna nodded, 'and Neville Longbottom too. He was a real hero.'

'Wow. You flew to the Ministry in Thestrals?'

'Yes. It was very pleasant.'

'You amaze me, Miss Lovegood.'

Luna didn't reply, and Rolf pressed his lips together, looking nervous.

'I read the Quibbler every week, you know,' he said quickly, 'I really like the puzzles.'

'Me, too,' Luna said, 'but I think I'll stop printing for a time, while my dad is in St. Mungo's.'

'I'm very sorry,' Rolf said at once, but Luna shook her head.

'He doesn't have much longer. I'll really miss him.'

'Why aren't you with him at St. Mungo's?'

'I don't have much time, actually. That makes me sad. I'd really like to be with my dad. They sent me a letter this morning telling me they had changed him to a different guard – I guess he's getting worse. Dragon pox.'

'I believe you should be with him right now,' Rolf said firmly, and Luna looked up. 'He's your father, go with him.'

'I wish I could,' Luna said, 'but the Russian Naturalist Gathering will kill me if I don't appear tonight.'

'Let _me_ handle those Russians,' Rolf said quickly, shaking his head, 'Your father is more important at this moment than those Ivy-Eating Gnomes.'

Luna said nothing, but stared at him even more intently than before.

'I have contacts, you won't get into any trouble,' Rolf assured her, nodding his head. Luna still didn't open her mouth. 'Please, Miss Lovegood, you know you want to go with you father.'

The gray-eyed young woman's mouth broke into a small smile.

'Thank you so much, Mr Scamander,' she said.

'Please, call me Rolf.'

She nodded, and for the first time in her life, something amazing happened – she blushed. Her cheeks flushed pink and Rolf laughed.

'Let me take you to St. Mungo's.'

Luna's smile widened and nodded again. Rolf wheeled around, facing towards the edge of the forest, and offered her his arm.

Totally embarrassed, yet happy, she took it, and walked with him away from the sweet nature surrounding them.

* * *

**ROLF!**


	7. The Black Sisters

**Didn't go to school today. Saw Prison Break. Ate hamburgers. Wrote this chapter. Hoped you liked it.**

* * *

The room was dark and gloomy as three pale figures sat at the table silently, with a cup of tea between their hands. The palest of them, with long, blond hair, sighed heavily, and the woman with heavily hooded eyes rolled her eyes at her; she seemed bored. The last one, who resembled the second one so much they could have been twins, was gazing at the table in front of her, deeply immersed in thought. The Black sisters, when together at their Auntie Black's house, didn't talk much – except to fight or to shout spells.

Now that they had nothing to fight about, or no reason to curse, they had ordered Kreacher the House-Elf a cup of tea for each of them, and one sent to Regulus' room upstairs. There was nothing fun to do in that house, except to look for dark objects and scare each other, but they had left that kind of game in the past, for the times when they were little girls. At the age of seventeen, however, they considered themselves responsible grown-ups, too old for that kind of childish activity. Nevertheless, whenever they got really mad, they _did_ use their knowledge about those objects for nasty purposes.

The blonde sighed again.

'Okay, what's up the sighing thing?' Bella asked her irritated. Her sister raised her nose up in the air.

'I won't do it again, if it bothers you,' she replied.

'Yes, thanks, it _does_ bother me.'

Narcissa scoffed.

'What?' Bellatrix snapped. 'For your information, Ciss, _we_ don't have to suffer for _your_ longing of being with that moron –'

'He is _not_ a moron, Bella!' Narcissa exclaimed angrily. The third sister, still silent, pressed her lips together and stood up, holding her cup.

'What is it that really attracts you to him, eh?' Bella taunted, 'The money?'

'Bella! How dare you?'

'At least he's a pureblood. I can't imagine what ma would say if he weren't – or Auntie Black,' she shuddered at the thought.

'How about you, dear sister?' Narcissa narrowed her eyes, 'Hanging around with that – Rodolphus Lestrange?'

Bellatrix scowled.

'If you dare insult him –'

'Then stop insulting Lucius!'

'It's not my fault if he's an idiot –'

'Yes, I daresay Rodolphus is a bright, intelligent man.'

'That blondie swims in Galleons –'

'Why do you care about his _millions_? Oh, that's right – Rodolphus is kind of _poor_, isn't he?'

'I think _my_ money is enough for us both; in case you haven't noticed, we're inheritors of Auntie's fortune and –'

'HEY!' a voice yelled from up the staircase, making both sisters jump. '_Shut it, will you?_ I'm trying to _concentrate_ here!'

'Oh, excuse me, Mister I-Am-The-Dark-Lord's-Most-Noble-Servant-And-So-I-Get-Secret-Missions-And-You-Don't!' Bellatrix bellowed from her seat. There was a loud bang that made Cissy wince, and then the house was silent again.

'Stupid Death Eater,' Bella muttered.

'I thought Rodolphus was one too,' Narcissa said silently, sipping her tea.

'He _is_,' her sister answered proudly, 'and so will I be, in just a matter of time.'

'Sounds wonderful,' said Cissy drly.

'And then we'll make nice little meeting with him and your Lucius,' Bella continued, raising her eyebrows, 'and I'll finally be able to discover if it is true that he's seeing another woman, Cissy – you know, I've always suspected of that Parkinson slut –'

'_Shut up!_' Narcissa screamed, slamming her cup on the desk. A loud crack told them it had broken. Bella didn't answer this time, but sneered at the blonde, while the latter glared at her. Finally, she chuckled and turned to her other sister, who had been silently gazing at the kitchen floor, away from them.

'You know, Annie,' Bella said, 'You're lucky you haven't fallen in love yet. Because when you do, he'd better not be a moron like the one _she_ chose.'

'Oh, please,' Narcissa snorted, 'Andromeda knows what is best for her. And that will be someone so much better than your Rodolphus.'

'Tell her, Annie,' Bella ordered, now drinking her tea, 'Tell her that your husband won't be such a moron –'

'No, Annie, tell _her_ how you won't marry a loser like –'

'_Loser?_ Why, cause he doesn't have money?'

'What's it with you and the money?'

'Oh, let's see – it helps us _live_?'

'So Rodolphus won't let you live?'

'I've got the money needed, so let Rodolphus out of this –'

'Girls!' Andromeda shouted over their raised voices. They both turned to look at her. 'I – don't fight.'

'How about Octavious, Annie?' Narcissa continued, now staring eagerly at her, 'He's a good-looking man –'

'Yeah, for an octopus,' Bella rolled her eyes. Cissy glared at her.

'There's also Yaxley –'

'Has an affair with Miss Parkinson.'

'Or Mulciber, I heard he's got a promotion in the Ministry –'

'Now he cleans the toilets.'

'And Severus is available, too –'

'Pity all the shampoos are fighting over him.'

'Avery's acne is gone, saw him on Saturday –'

'Gone from his _face_.'

'Ugh! Stop it, Bella!'

'You just mention the losers.'

'So everyone's a loser except Rodolphus?'

'Annie deserves a good, intelligent pureblood that knows where his loyalties are –'

'If that descriptions are fit for Rodolphus, then may Annie be blessed.'

'Annie will never –!'

'_Girls!_' Andromeda shouted again. 'Girls… I – I don't want _you_ to decide who I'll marry.'

'Let's face it, Annie, you're not very smart,' Bella told her. 'You need us.'

'No, no,' Andromeda shook her head, 'I… I already chose someone,' she mumbled, her cheeks turning red. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes in disgust, and Cissy gasped.

'Oh, Annie! Who is it?' she asked, excited, 'I'd bet it's Nott, he's really nice and –'

'The man's a fool,' Bella replied, but before Narcissa could open her mouth again, she snapped, 'Let _her_ do the talking, Cissy! Now,' she turned to Andromeda again, '_Who is he_?'

'Er…' Andromeda bit her lip. None of them missed that she was really nervous. 'I – well, don't freak out, Bella, Cissy, just listen, okay? I – er – met this guy named Ted a year ago, from Hufflepuff –'

'Ted? _Ted Tonks?_' Bella's expression was of utter horror.

'Look, he's really nice and sweet and –'

'Isn't he a Muggle-born?' Narcissa asked Bellatrix, who nodded. She gasped again, this time in disapproval and dislike, '_Annie!_'

'Annie. Loves. A. Mudblood,' Bella whispered, gazing at the floor. '_Ugh!_'

'Listen, girls, I know what you're thinking, but Teddy is –'

'Teddy?' Bella turned to her, scowling, 'Is that what you call him? What's next – Teddy-poo?'

'Bella, I –'

'Oh my god,' Narcissa stared at her blankly, 'That is so not Black.'

'Cissy –'

'Oh my, when ma hears about this!' Bellatrix shouted, 'A disgrace! Horrible! _Terrible_ – hey, REGULUS!' she yelled up the stairs.

'_SHUT UP, BELLA!_' the same furious voice answered from above.

'COME DOWN AND LISTEN TO THIS!' it seemed Bella was shouting at the top of her lungs so that everybody in the house would listen, 'ANDROMEDA IS IN LOVE WITH A MUGGLE-BORN!'

'_So let her be damned! Now, SHUT IT!_'

She frowned. 'He didn't even _care_.'

Bella wheeled around and marched to where Andromeda was standing, frozen, with a look of the most powerful fright.

'You have disgraced us,' she whispered, and Annie shook her head quickly.

'No, Bella, he is –'

'_A Muggle-born!_' Bella shrieked, 'What have you _done_?'

'You have put the Black name on shame, Annie,' Narcissa said, frowning, from her chair.

'What shall I say to the Dark Lord when I join him! _My sister loves a Muggle-born!_'

'Bella, Cissy, _please_ –' Andromeda begged, tears in her eyes, '_Please_, just let me –'

'You are not my sister,' Bellatrix interrupted her. She stared at Annie as if she had never seen her before, as if she were a filthy beggar from the streets.

Andromeda's eyes flickered from Bella to Cissy, from Cissy to Bella, but she couldn't find compassion anywhere. She sniffed loudly and pushed Bella from her way – the woman did not attack, but followed her with her brown eyes.

'That's it, leave!' she shouted at her as Annie marched to the front door, 'You can go and join Teddy-poo! No, better, why don't you pay a visit to _dear_ Sirius? I bet he'll love to hear from you! After all, _you're both traitors to this family!_'

The front door closed with a bang, and Bellatrix turned to Narcissa.

'Leave her alone,' the blonde said. 'If she loves him, there's nothing you can do.'

'Thank God,' Bella snapped, 'because I swear, if I ever see another Black traitor, I'll kill myself.'

Her eyes narrowed.

'Or kill _them_.'

* * *

**1) Regulus was killed at the age of eighteen.  
2) Bella always disliked Lucius.  
3) Nymphadora Tonks was a Hufflepuff, so I supposed Ted would be one too. _Might_ be wrong.  
4) At this point in his life, Regulus already knew about the Horcruxes, and that is what he was doing upstairs. Researching.  
5) Visit for the Black Family Tree. It's effin awesome.**

**WOOT WOOT:3**

**Side note: DUMBLEDORE'S GAYNESS PWNS THIS WORLD!**


	8. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs

**I found some time in my life :)**

* * *

He entered the room quietly and closed the door behind him. With a great deal of luck, he wouldn't get caught. Tiptoeing, he neared his father's desk and sat on his chair, staring at the mess of papers on it. Geez, wasn't he messy. Not even _he_ was as messy as his father! No wonder mom was always running all around the house flicking her wand from one place to the other. He grabbed the first paper at his reach.

_... SINCE THE SACKING OF THE CURRENT MUGGLE PRIME MINISTER, THE MINISTER FOR MAGIC HAS BEEN DEALING WITH –_

Boring.

He threw the paper over the desk again and snatched another.

_... of course, house-elves deserve being treated just like any other magical creature,' says Hermione Granger Weasley, who has been fighting for elf rights since she was only –_

Boring.

Come on, that woman was in her life like, what, all the time? Auntie Hermy, she hated to be called like that. But hell, what's life without some fun in it?

He slammed his hand against the desk in frustration, and quickly regretted it – it had been loud enough for anybody else to hear. He stiffened, listening to the sounds of the house.

'_... I – can't – find – my – doll!_'

'_... Dad will be home soon, Albus, and you won't like it if he saw you in that condition! Go get a bath!'_

'..._ I'll get dirty again, so what's the point –'_

'_The point is you get your hair washed, you look like you've been sleeping on the garden for months –'_

'_... Mommy, mommy, I lost Nymphadora!'_

'_... You'll find it soon, sweetie, keep looking – Albus Severus Potter, I won't repeat it again!'_

Great. Nobody had noticed his absence.

Yet.

He skimmed the papers and decided those were useless.

Move to the drawers, he thought.

He opened the first silently and took out a large folder.

_... from the famous Dark Wizard, Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. For years he reigned over his followers and was guided by a prophecy that talked about –_

Boring. What was it with his dad and boring stuff? All he had done was kill some loose maniac. What was the big deal? _He_ had made his Quidditch team win the previous year. Now, _that_ was something.

He placed the folder inside the drawer, closed it, and moved into the next one.

It was empty. Except for an old piece of parchment.

Slowly, James took it out.

It was big, he thought as he unfolded it carefully. Very big. And it looked so, so old. And so, so blank.

Yet, there was something captivating about it, something that called him... There was something – magical – about it. It was not some piece of parchment, he decided.

Slowly, he took out his wand. He wasn't supposed to do magic outside school. He wasn't _allowed_.

But wasn't it _fascinating_! He gazed at the folds, at the stains left by the pass of time, and it amazed him, somehow – he carefully placed the tip of his wand over the parchment...

The door opened slightly.

'James?' a voice whispered. The boy pressed his mouth shut to avoid making noise, but his brother entered the room nonetheless. 'James! What are you – you can't be here!'

'Well, I actually _am_ here,' James answered rolling his eyes and quickly folding the parchment again. 'So if _you_ don't wanna get in trouble, I suggest you run along.'

Albus closed the door behind him without paying him any attention, and gazed at the room.

'If dad catches us...' he whispered, leaving the sentence unfinished. What _would_ happen if he caught them?

'He won't if you shut up,' James snapped in a low voice, glancing at the door for any sound of approaching footsteps. He stashed the parchment inside his pants and made as if he were interested in the open, empty drawer.

'Dad will kill you! This is his private stuff!' Albus' green eyes were wide in fear, but James chuckled.

'The only thing private in dad's stuff is mum's photographs,' he muttered, and heard Albus swallow loudly. 'If you're so afraid of being here, then just _go_! You're getting on my nerves!'

'Dad will kill us, he'll kill us, he'll kill us! I haven't even started going to Hogwarts yet! What if he doesn't let me go? No, no! What if he doesn't let me _learn magic_? What if he decides to keep me as a – a – a magic-less wizard? We'll be in great trouble, and I'll never meet a girl in my life, and I'll never get married, and I will never have children, and _you_ won't either, because _you_ are the one searching through his things! He'll _disinherit you_! No! What if he sends you to Azkaban? No, what if he sends _me_ to Azkaban? I don't want a Dementor sucking my soul, it's _private stuff_! I don't want to be a drooling vegetable the rest of my life! And then daddy will kill me and eat me in a soup and he'll ...'

During Albus' babbling and stuttering, James had bitten his lips in exasperation, not hearing a word he was saying, and pretending to be rummaging the empty drawer, peering into its darkness. But suddenly he had felt something with his hand – something stuck on the top of the drawer... A paper. A very, very little paper. He glanced at Albus, alarmed – he was standing right beside him, and if he took it out, he would see.

'... without magic I'll never be able to cook and will have to cook like a Muggle, and all because you were looking into dad's papers, and –'

'Shut up and listen,' James interrupted. Albus stopped dead and stared back at his brother at the verge of tears. 'Dementors won't suck your soul. You'll go to Hogwarts. Dad won't eat you in a soup. And about the girl... Well. I'm sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but... you won't get one anyway,' he leaned closer to Albus, 'You're ugly, dude. Sorry to tell you like this.'

'Hey!' exclaimed the green-eyed boy, ready to jump over his brother, but of course he knew he was just joking.

'Now go to the door and stick your ear to it,' James instructed.

'What about Unlce George's Extendable -?'

'Mum knows them just too well,' he muttered darkly. He had verified this years ago... and the consequences had been pretty ugly.

Obediently, Albus ran to the door, and James took advantage of the moment to grab the little paper from the drawer. Never losing sight of his brother, he placed it safely in his pocket, closed the drawer, and stood up.

'Okay, any sign of mom?' he asked Albus. The boy shook his head quickly. 'Good, out you go.'

They got out of the room and closed the door behind them, and, as fast as they could, they walked to their respective rooms. When he was sure Albus wouldn't bother him again, James locked his door with a key – it didn't prevent his parents, but Lily and Albus could never get in – and jumped on his bed.

He took out the little piece of paper and stared at it.

_I swear I am up to no good._

Frowning, James scowled. What -?

He turned it around.

_Mischief managed_.

It was his dad's handwriting. He was dead sure. But why did he keep this little paper with senseless words hidden in a drawer with an old piece of -?

'Ghostbusters!' James exclaimed as something clicked in his mind. With trembling hands, he grabbed the big, folded parchment and unfolded it in front of him. His wand was in his hand one second later.

_I swear I am up to no good._

_Mischief managed._

Codes? Spells?

He placed the tip of his wand again on the surface of the paper.

'_I swear I am –_'

'_James!_' a voice called from outside his room. '_James!_ I can't find Nymphadora! Is it there in your room?'

'No, Lily! She's inside the fridge!'

There was a moment of silence.

'How did she get there?' Lily's confused voice asked.

'You sent her to Azkaban, remember?' James said, rolling his eyes, as _he_ remembered how he had watched Lily sentencing her doll to life sentence in prison for eating Andromeda's imaginary cookie.

'Oh! _Mom! Mom!_' Lily started to shriek as she ran down the stairs, away from her eldest brother's room.

James sighed and focused on the parchment again. His wand was still in place.

'I swear I am... I'm...'

What if they expelled him from Hogwarts because he had done magic?

He took a deep breath.

It was worth a try. That map was too fascinating for its own good.

'I swear I am up to no good.'

There was a pause in which he gazed, wide eyed, at the paper –

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs  
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present  
THE MARAUDER'S MAP._

* * *

**Okay, so you have this wonderful thing from your childhood you just never wanna loose - and it's got a sort of password. With the pass of time, and the lack of use of that password, you'll forget. So what is better than hiding the password in the top of a drawe which your adventorous son will never, ever think of opening, even less if it's in a room he is not allowed to enter?**


	9. A Nightmare Begins

**Lack of Time + Lack of Inspiration** equal **No Uploading.**

**Random Inspiration + Long Time Of No Uploading** equal **Chapter For You :)**

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A young girl sat alone in the garden of her house. Her blond, silky hair fell like a cascade behind her back and her penetrating blue eyes pierced the squirrel she was holding between her tiny hands. It would have been a beautiful, yet really common sight to look at, if it had not been for the fact that all of a sudden, the little girl spread out her arms with a ripple of laughter that chimed in the wind, and the squirrel was sent flying through the air, slowly and gently as if it were a simple feather abandoned by a bird. She clapped her hands together again and, unexpectedly, it disappeared. Her expression changed at once, clearly dumbfounded by the incident, but after a few seconds her small mouth stretched into a smile again. 

Not far away from her garden, three boys heard the sweet, childish laughter. At once, the shortest of them stopped running after the soccer ball and turned to the hedge behind them.

'Oi!' yelled the tallest of the boys. His face was smeared in freckles and his brown hair was a bit too long, but the authority of his voice gave him an air of being powerful among his friends. 'Are you going to play or what?'

'Was that someone laughing?' the shortest boy asked, turning to them.

'What, haven't you ever heard anybody laugh in your life?' said a blond boy, smirking.

'That's the Dumbledore's house,' informed the freckled boy, 'Creepy, if you ask me.'

The small boy walked to the hedge and tried to peer through its chaos of leaves and branches.

'What do you see?' asked the blonde, forgetting all about the ball under his foot.

'Someone,' he replied.

'Duh.'

The blond boy walked up to his friend and made himself a hole in the hedge from which to peep inside the Dumbledore garden. The girl with the piercing blue eyes appeared before him, sitting alone, and laughing. Scowling, the freckled boy followed their example and frowned at the little girl.

'It's just a girlie,' he said, rolling his eyes, but as he spoke, something incredible happened: one big, orange flower suddenly blossomed from the green grass, exactly in front of the girl, as she held her hands above it. Unable to avoid it, his mouth opened and hung loose, astonished by the miraculous event. By his side, his friends' eyes were as wide as plates, gazing at the orange flower and the blond girl.

When he could recover from his shock, he immediately enlarged the small hole in the hedge so that he could slip through it and enter property of the Dumbledores.

'You! How did you do that?' he asked the young girl with his authority.

His two friends followed him inside, uncomfortable with the trespassing, but stood around the child nonetheless.

She shrugged.

'Dunno,' she replied in a sugary voice. Again, she held her hands over a patch of grass, and a new flower bloomed, this time completely white.

'Show me how you did it,' the boy demanded again, now getting gradually more scared of the youngster.

She merely shrugged once more and made a rose appear by her side.

'It's no trick,' said the short boy, staring at the flowers closely, horror in his voice, 'She is not… she is…'

His voice trailed away and the three friends glanced at each other in terror.

'_Witch!_'

'How are you doing that? _How are you doing it?_'

'Stop that! Freak!'

The girl ignored the screams and shouts around her as she built her precious little garden; however, in an impulse of dread and panic, the freckled boy stepped on her flowers hurriedly and kicked the girl on her side, sending her rolling over the grass with a scream of pain. Without delay, and blinded by fear, the three of them ran to her and started to kick and punch and throw any little pebble they could find near them, as little Ariana Dumbledore yelled and cried for her mother, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks and bruises all over her body. But the boys did not stop – they were afraid, terrified of the little girl, so much that they hurt her without even looking, not stopping to think what they were doing…

'_Ariana?_' the voice of a boy came from inside the distant house. '_Ariana? What's wrong? Ariana!_'

The wooden door of the house flew open and a boy of the same piercing blue eyes his sister had ran out of it, followed by a skinny, grey goat.

'_Ariana!_' he yelled, '_What the hell are you doing – Ariana!_'

The three Muggle boys shot out of the garden, their fear and shock enlarged by the boy and his goat, and, desperately, Aberforth Dumbledore knelt beside his crying sister, who could not stop shrieking in pain and terror…

'Mom! Dad! Albus! _Dad!_' Aberforth screamed at the house, and at once Kendra and Percival rushed out of the house and a window opened on the second floor, where a blond boy watched the scene.

'_Aberforth?_' he called from high above, '_What happened?_'

But Albus' younger brother was still screaming for his parents, who were screaming at their youngest daughter, who was still screaming for help…

Little did they know that from that moment onwards, Ariana Dumbledore would not be the same.

* * *

**How sad :( Ariana pwned.**

**With Love,**

**Me :3**

**PS: Aberforth/Ariana OTP :) INCEST FTW!**


	10. Basilisk Fangs

**GOODBYE FANFICTION :) For a month. But I'll be back.**

* * *

'No problem. See you in a bit.'

He turned around, Luna following him, and Neville closed the cupboard door again. The Room of Requirement was filled by an awkward silence for a minute – and then broke into chattering and exclamations, all of its inhabitants hopeful for the first time in a long time. Harry Potter was _back_.

Only two of them stared at each other in concern.

'Do you think they'll find it?' Hermione asked Ron as she bit her lip.

'Hogwarts is huge, Hermione,' he replied. 'Remember what Harry told us? Not even Dumbledore himself knew everything about it.'

The girl glanced at the cupboard. 'Specially if he didn't know Ravenclaw's diadem was right under his nose,' Ron added.

'Ron – what if he finds the other –' she glanced at the students and ex-students around her, 'the other one?'

He stared at her. 'What? We destroy it, Hermione – that was the point of coming _here_, the point of our _journey_ –'

'No, no,' Hermione interrupted, shaking her head quickly, 'Ron, even if we find it, how are we going to get rid of it? We _still_ have the cup, and if You Know Who knows what we're doing and _is_ coming here, it's useless to have two unscathed – _things_ – in our hands!'

Ron stared at the floor ahead of him, frowning. 'I wonder…'

His voice trailed off, and Hermione gazed at him with wide, worried eyes.

'"Lucky we've got such a large supply of Basilisk fangs,"' Ron quoted himself in a whisper, remembering that day in the Burrow, a day that now seemed so ancient and happy…

'Ron?'

'Hermione – that's it – the girl's bathroom!' he exclaimed, turning his back to the others in the room, as if seeing his face would give away what he was planning to do.

'You won't mean –'

'The girl's bathroom on the first floor?'

Hermione's eyes grew even bigger, sparkling with excitement. 'Ron! That's it!'

'If they never took out that Basilisk's body – which they probably didn't – then we can get its fangs!' Ron said.

'Oh, Ron, that's _brilliant!_' Hermione squealed. 'You're a _genius!_'

Ron smiled, his ears turning red, realizing that he had not seen Hermione so excited since – since – well, a long time.

'Let's go!' she said, and, taking his hand, hurried to the cupboard in the corner.

'Where are you going?' Ginny called from behind them.

'Stay here,' was all Ron snapped at her as he closed the cupboard door behind him.

'This is tricky,' he heard Hermione say in front of him as they descended through the staircase, turning unexpectedly very often. They finally reached its end, and the two of them stared blankly at the solid wall before them.

'Brilliant,' Ron nodded, but Hermione touched it with her fingers cautiously, and pushed. She didn't stop to hear Ron's comments about how the wall had just melted, but quickly turned around and gestured him to make silence. According to Neville, the path could lead to any place in Hogwarts, so they had to be careful to what could appear. They walked out slowly, their wands held high, and stared into the dark classroom.

'Arithmancy class,' Hermione whispered. 'First floor.'

'Lucky us,' Ron muttered, and together they opened the classroom's door.

'Nobody.'

'Great.'

They walked as fast and quietly as they could, their wands on the ready for any Death Eater threat. On their way, Hermione summoned a broom from the nearest cupboard so as to be able to get back from the Chamber – she remembered Harry and Ron's story about having to get back to Hogwarts as Fawkes' cargo. At last, they were standing in front of a large door bearing the sign, 'Out of Order.' Hermione stretched her hand to the brass doorknob, but Ron halted her.

'Wait! What if Myrtle is _inside_?' he asked in disgust, but Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Ignore her, Ron,' she said harshly, and pushed the door opened. At once they were flooded by memories of that bathroom – the three of them, huddled together around a cauldron, staring into a blank, innocent diary, trying to get rid of Moaning Myrtle… The gloomy, depressing bathroom was just like it had been years ago. And the annoying ghost that inhabited it was not there. Slowly, they walked to the cracked mirrors and sinks.

'Look for the one in front of Myrtle's toilet,' Ron told Hermione.

'Which one _was_ Myrtle's toilet?' she asked, confused, but Ron was one step ahead of her; he was already examining one of the sinks for the sign of the little snake scratched in the copper tap. 'Ron?'

'Hermione, you _don't_ know how to speak Parseltongue, do you?' he asked, his hopes crumbling rapidly. He had forgotten, in the previous exhilaration of having found a solution to their problems, that it had been Harry who had opened the door to the Chamber of Secrets by talking in Parseltongue.

'Maybe with a spell…' Hermione suggested, but Ron shook his head.

Another memory came to his head – the memory of a locket, a sword, and a deformed version of Harry and Hermione with their lips touching each other's.

'Harry made this hissing sound to open the locket,' he said, staring at the snake. 'Something like…'

He recalled the hissing sound with all the power his mind had, and attempted to copy it. But all that came out of his mouth was a meaningless hiss.

Hermione watched him with interest and concern.

'Okay, first try,' he said, and went for the second try. And the third. And the fourth. By the fifth, he could already see Hermione losing hopes. He sighed and stopped hissing.

'Ron... we need to get Harry.'

'No, I _can_ do it,' he said. 'Trust me, Hermione.'

She pressed her lips together, and Ron recalled Harry's hiss once again. A strangled, horrible hissing noise that he copied, his eyes closed, wishing that this was the last – and successful – try.

He heard Hermione gasp, and knew that he had done it. When his eyes opened again, the sink was, in fact, sinking, revealing the large pipe he had seen only once in his life.

'_Ron! _You _did_ it!' Hermione shrieked, and jumped over him to embrace him. Flustered, the red-head muttered, 'It was easy.'

'Now we slide through that?' she asked him when she had let go.

'Yeah, so we'd better hurry,' he said. 'I'll go first.'

Hermione smiled, her eyes filled with tenderness, and slid down the pipe after him.

It was an endless, wet fall, and when they were finally shot out of the pipe and into the damp, dark tunnel he had once visited, they quickly stood up and grabbed their wands.

'_Lumos_!' Hermione whispered, illuminating the floor with her own wand. 'Are those… skeletons?'

'Animals', Hermione, let's go,' Ron answered, and took her hand to lead the way. She had never been inside the Chamber, so everything was up to him now. They walked quickly through the tunnel, trying not to make the most minimum sound, even though they both knew that, now, nothing lurked in the darkness, ready to attack. Ron smiled when they got to a large blockade of fallen rocks, with a sizeable gap for both of them to pass. Hermione frowned.

'That was Lockhart,' he explained, 'and I moved the rocks while Harry rescued Ginny.'

Not waiting for him to finish, she widened the hole with her wand and passed, broom on hand and Ron following her. 'Come on, Ron,' she called, 'if we get on the broom we'll get to the Basilisk faster.'

'I thought you didn't like flying,' Ron said while mounting the broom she had handed him. She positioned herself behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

'This is more important than anything I don't like,' she said, and Ron took off, feeling weird with Hermione's arms around him. Weird, yet wonderful.

And though he had not been beyond the rocks, he knew what he had to do as they encountered a wall with entwined serpents carved on it, emeralds replacing their eyes. He made the strangled hissing noise, felt Hermione praise him in delight, and entered the Chamber of Secrets. There, at the far end of the chamber with giant pillars, on the feet of a gigantic statue of a man, its bottom submerged in water, laid a large, long skeleton.

'Nice to see Hogwarts clean and hygienic,' Ron said as they descended right in front of the Basilisk. 'We had a massive skeleton of a deadly snake under us for four years?'

Hermione scowled. 'Hurry, Ron. There's no time to lose.'

She approached the snake's mouth and said, '_Flagrate!_'

A fiery line appeared at the top of one of the fangs, and fell on the floor. 'Ron, help me!' she said, and he hurried to her side. Together, they collected a reasonable amount of venomous fangs and mounted the broom again, leaving the Chamber of Secrets behind.

The prospect of defeating Voldemort looked much, much brighter now.


	11. The Hidden Side Of The First Story

**I'm a bad girl who never updates :( This chapter was requested by MoonKid, who asked me if I could write the three days that Harry was unconscious after fighting Quirrel. Sorry MoonKid, I couldn't write TEH three days so I wrote for you two moments :) Hope you like it! (I think Ron is a bit OOC, don't you think?)**

**Edit: Thanks to Charlie Weasley's Angel for the correction! I was probably half-asleep while writing, so you rock :D**

* * *

A strange feeling surrounded her body, as if a million needles had been inserted in her skin – and yet she felt no pain. Despite the thought that fire was indeed hot, she could not help shivering; this fire was cold. Her vision blurred by purple flames, Hermione winced and gave one last step forward. Almost instantly, the prickling needles became only a cold tingling, the left over of the effect Snape's potion had had on her. The door she had opened ten minutes ago stood closed before her, trapping her; but it gave away easily as she opened it. Placing a hand over her mouse and nose in anticipation, she tiptoed across the room she was now in – and fortunately, the bleeding troll was still unconscious on the floor, with the same putrid and eye-tearing smell. The next room was the most important to her, and she hurried to close the troll room's door behind her to run as fast as she could to the other unconscious being – Ron.

Black and white chess pieces were still scattered at the sides of the gigantic chess board, while the surviving pieces stood still inside it, glaring at each other in silence. Ron laid at one side, a bruise on his left temple, unmoving.

'Ron?' Hermione called as she knelt beside him, her eyes wide in fear. 'Ron, come on. Wake up.'

She placed her hands on his chest and shook him slightly.

'Can you hear me? _Ron_.'

The boy did not give any signs of life. Hermione grabbed his wrist and let go; it fell heavily on the floor. Placing two fingers on it, she checked his pulse…

He was alive.

'Ron! You're okay!' Hermione smiled at him, but his eyes remained close and his mouth half-open. 'Ron, we have to help Harry, _wake up_.'

Once again she placed his hands on his chest and shook him.

'Ron?'

And shook him again.

'_Ron_.'

Hard.

'_Ron!_'

She yelled in frustration and let her hands drop on her lap. She knew how Ron could be impossible to wake up during the mornings, but she had never imagined this could also happen when he was _unconscious_. In a last attempt, she placed his face between her hands and sighed.

'I'm sorry Ron, but Harry needs you know, and you just won't wake up.'

Closing her eyes tight, she raised her right hand and slapped him in the face as hard as she dared – which wasn't much. But it worked. Ron frowned and inhaled deeply, moving his head to one side and grunting.

'Ouch,' he muttered raising a hand to his face.

'_Ron!_' Hermione exclaimed, and bent down to hug him tight.

'That hurt, Hermione,' Ron grunted, opening his eyes. 'You could just have shaken me or something.'

'Ron, we need to get Dumbledore here _now_!' said Hermione, standing up and holding out her hand to help him stand up.

'I feel fine, thank you for asking,' Ron said as he accepted Hermione's hand and stood up wincing. 'It's nice when people concern about you when a chess piece has just struck you unconscious and could have killed you.'

'No, it couldn't,' Hermione retorted, walking quickly to the door. 'McGonagall would have never designed the game to _kill_, only to –'

'Where's Harry?' Ron suddenly asked. 'Is he okay?'

Hermione bit her lip. 'I hope so.'

'Can you _please_ tell me what happened, Hermione?'

'On our way, Ron, we don't have any time to lose,' she replied, and opened the door to the room with the hundreds of flying keys. 'Grab a broom, Ron.'

The boy obeyed silently as they both mounted the brooms they had used to catch Flitwick's key, and together they flew across the room and through the corridor that led to the room of the Devil's Snare. The plant had once again taken over the room, the effect of Hermione's fire spell having passed a long time ago. The two children lingered far over it, staring at the trapdoor high above them. Hermione stared at Ron.

'There's no music, so Fluffy will probably be awake,' she said to him.

Ron nodded, frowning at the small square of light. 'We have to be fast.' He suddenly focused his eyes on Hermione and said firmly and resolutely, 'I'll go first.'

Hermione gave him a small gesture of concern, but did not argue.

'Follow me _as quickly as you can,_ Hermione, okay?'

She nodded. Ron inhaled deeply, pressed his lips tight – and zoomed up. With no hesitation, Hermione followed him at high speed, ready to face Fluffy once again – and before she had reached the trap door, she heard the three-headed dog start to bark at Ron, its heads trying to catch him, until she finally burst into the dim-lit room, one of Fluffy's paws dangerously brushing against her. Ron was already at the door, fighting with the lock, his cloak torn apart at a side, and just as Fluffy's left head got perilously close to Hermione, he managed to open it and the girl was able to fly out of the room, Ron running behind her. He spun around and, finally, closed the door, leaving a growling Fluffy locked inside. Hermione got down from her room, dizzy.

'So now what?' Ron asked, gasping for breath.

'Now,' Hermione said, grabbing his arm and pulling him forwards, 'we run to the Owlery.'

'Hermione, can you just _please_ tell me what happened after the queen knocked me down?' Ron bellowed as they ran through the corridor of the third floor

'Basically, we found an unconscious troll, most probably by Snape's doing,' she told him, her breathing uneven and difficult as they dashed up the stairs and through the doors. 'And then I had to solve a logic problem with wine and poison and then Harry went on by himself and I came back for you, and we have to get Dumbledore back!'

Ron slowed down his pace all of a sudden, pale. 'Hermione, Harry may be dead by now, if Snape got hold of the Philosopher's Stone!'

'Snape won't kill him, Ron!' Hermione said, pulling Ron forwards again and speeding up.

'He already tried to do so during that Quidditch game, Hermione!'

Hermione bit her lip. 'I hope Harry's okay.'

'Hermione, look!'

Just as the two children entered the Great Hall, a tall figure hurried to meet them.

'Professor Dumbledore?' Hermione asked, perplexed. She and Ron halted; the Headmaster's expression was severe and alarmed.

'Harry's gone to look for it, hasn't he?' Dumbledore asked, piercing Ron and Hermione with his deep blue eyes. Both of them nodded quickly, and the old wizard swiftly disappeared the way Harry's friends had come.

Ron stared at Hermione. 'Wasn't he in London?' he asked, and Hermione shook her head, her eyes wide.

'I don't know,' she whispered. 'But I hope he isn't too late.'

Silence reigned in the hospital wing.

Hermione sat on a chair by Harry's bed, reading. The boy was profoundly asleep, and he had slightly red-pink marks in some parts of his face and arms where Madam Pomfrey had healed cuts and bruises. Since Dumbledore had rescued Harry from Quirrel and brought to the hospital wing, he'd been sleeping all night and day, unaware that gossips about what had happened had spread throughout the castle like an epidemic. By Ron, obviously.

The door of the hospital wing opened widely and Ron entered, muttering under his breath. Hermione looked up from her book, assessed him up and down, and resumed her reading.

'What's going on?' she asked him, her eyes focused on the book.

'It's incredible how people distort what they're told,' Ron complained, grabbing a chair of his own and sitting beside Hermione. 'Apparently, Harry had to play a gigantic chess game and had to sacrifice me so he could win and move on, according to Hannah Abbot. Oh, and I died, too.'

He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'What did you expect, Ron?'

'That at least the people gets right the facts we _know_ are true.'

The girl stared at him. 'You know, I can't believe it was Quirrel.'

'Yeah, who could have imagined it?' Ron said rising his eyebrows. 'Poor, old, stammering Quirrel. Seamus told me that Dean told him that Finch-Fletchley was told that Harry killed him by strangling him with his turban.'

'I doubt it, Ron.'

'Sounds like Harry to me.'

Hermione shook her head slowly, holding her book higher and closer to her face. 'We'll know the truth when Harry wakes up, anyway.'

Ron shrugged; he sighed heavily and gazed at the room surrounding him, his eyes finally resting on the table beside Harry's bed, packed with cards, letters, chocolates, and every kind of sweet.

'Who send all of that?' he asked, indignated.

'Harry's admirers, I guess,' Hermione answered in a monotonous voice, still reading.

Ron glared at the six boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, but after reconsidering, he stood up and grabbed a Chocolate Frog.

Hermione frowned. 'Ronald! That's Harry's!'

'He won't mind,' Ron replied, stuffing the frog inside his mouth and examining the box. 'Ah, bloddy 'ell. Morganagain. Got sheven o'these aready.'

Hermione stared at him in disgust, and as Ron swallowed, she flicked a page of her book.

'What are you reading?' asked Ron, frowning at her book.

'_Hogwarts: A History_.'

'_Again?_' Ron exclaimed.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'Yes, Ronald. A good reader is a re-reader. And besides, this is the reason why I have got good marks in History while you keep on copying my notes.'

'Ah, it's better that way,' Ron shrugged, sitting down beside Hermione again. 'Hope Harry wakes up soon.'

'Yes, so you can ride his broom again.'

'No, so I can have someone actually interacting with me instead of having to talk with myself while you isolate from the world to _re-read_.'

'Ronald, you've got chocolate on your mouth.'

'Shut up.'

* * *

**Yeah, so much waiting just for _that_. But I still have to get moving with other fics!**

**Reviews are love :3**

**XOXO,**

**Me :3**


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